


Swamp Things

by LarielRomeniel



Series: The Waiting Room [7]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: AU Post-Destiny, Easter Eggs, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Mardi Gras, Time Travel, time pirates - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-20 07:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11916327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarielRomeniel/pseuds/LarielRomeniel
Summary: The Legends visit New Orleans to retrieve some time-displaced artifacts, and meet up with some old friends. Hijinks ensue. Part of my "Waiting Room" 'verse, set after "In Case I Never Told You" but well before "Man To Man." Six completed chapters, posted daily.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some trouble with Time Pirates take the Legends to New Orleans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an expansion of my drabble "If You Want Something Done." An expansion of about 14,000 words! It focuses more heavily on the team than on Len and Sara alone. Fair warning: Lots of silliness lies ahead!
> 
> Thanks to Jael for the beta and for encouraging me to try a long one-shot. I ended up going multi-chapter after all, but it helped push me to actually complete the work before posting.

**_Previously in "The Waiting Room..."_ **

_Kendra hugged her tightly. “You let us know when you’ve got him back. And when you do…” her_   _friend’s eyes got a little wicked, “Kiss him once for me.”_

\--A Time For Great Things, Chapter 9

* * *

**_In The Temporal Zone_ **

Lemire cursed as the ship rocked again, sending him careening into the cargo bay shelves. “You call that evasive maneuvering?” he shouted.

“Kind of hard to evade anything without our starboard thruster!” Lindelof shouted back from the cockpit.

The comms crackled. _“Attention, pirate ship Moreira. This is Captain Rip Hunter of the Waverider. We’re here for the items you took from the temple. Hand them over and we’ll let you go on your way.”_

“To hell with that!” Lindelof replied, before the ship jerked again.

 _“That was your aft thruster. I can do this all day, gentlemen,”_ Hunter said in that irritatingly composed British accent. _“Or you can let me come aboard and give me what I want. I’ll give you thirty seconds to think about it.”_

“Dammit!” Lindelof swore. “If they come on board they’ll find…”

“No, they won’t!” Lemire told him. “Got an idea!”

He went to the case holding the items Hunter was after. He cursed again as he opened it; Lindelof had forgotten to secure some of the artifacts they’d stolen across time. The two pieces in question were dripping with some kind of shimmering liquid from a shattered flask.

But they were otherwise undamaged. He hit the comm button on the bulkhead. “You want ‘em so bad, Hunter? Then go get ‘em!” he shouted, shoving the artifacts into the garbage chute and hitting the _Cycle_ button, sending them tumbling out into the time stream.

Hunter was no longer composed. _“Bollocks!”_

* * *

**_New Orleans, February 2017_ **

Their former teammates were waiting for them in a riverside park a short walk from the aquarium where they’d parked the Waverider on the roof. Carter hung back just a little, nodding to everyone but otherwise seeming a little ill at ease with the team he’d walked away from not too long ago.

Len supposed he couldn’t really blame the man for that.

Kendra had no such qualms, giving a warm smile to everyone before hugging Sara, then Len, telling him, “It’s good to have you back!” Then she stage-whispered to Sara, “Did you remember what I told you to do when you found him?”

Len raised an eyebrow at Sara, who just chuckled, shaking her head. “We… got a little bit busy.”

Kendra snorted. “Well, then...” Her warm smile turned wicked. “She was supposed to do this once for me.”

He found himself being kissed soundly, and rocked back on his heels when Kendra released him to wink at Sara. “ _Lucky_ girl!”

Len glanced over at Carter, who shrugged and said, “Four thousand years. She always comes back to me.”

Len didn’t miss the slight wince crossing Ray’s face at Carter’s words. Neither, apparently, did Kendra, who promptly elbowed Carter in the side, getting an _“oof”_ from him.

The hawk goddess had sharpened her talons a bit, Len thought with approval. He wondered whether every version of Carter Hall was an entitled ass. “Lucky _guy_ ,” he said sarcastically. Then he kissed Sara just as soundly as Kendra had kissed him, dipping her before coming up with a smirk. “But I’m luckier.”

“Enough with the mush already,” Mick grumbled. “Thought we came here to party!”

“We came here to retrieve some time-displaced artifacts,” Rip corrected, just a little acerbically.

“ _Then_ we’ll party!” Jax added eagerly. Martin rolled his eyes fondly at his partner’s enthusiasm.

Carter chuckled. “Well, you’ve picked the right time to come down to the Big Easy! The Krewe of Bacchus parade rolls tonight.”

“They chose Hawkman as their king this year,” Kendra said.

“Yeah, but I only accepted when they agreed to name you their first queen,” Carter added. “If you all have the time after you’re done with your mission, we’d like you to join us after the parade at the Bacchus Ball.”

“Bacchus! God of wine! I approve!” Mick declared.

Martin raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were more of a beer man, Mr. Rory.”

“Mick is an equal opportunity drinker, especially if the drinks are on someone else,” Len said drily, getting a snort from Mick.

“Can we _please_ focus on the task at hand?” Rip demanded.

“I see some things haven’t changed,” Kendra murmured to Sara, who shrugged.

“So, tell me about these artifacts,” Carter said. “Anything we would have seen at the university?”

“University?” Stein asked.

Rip shrugged a little at the confused glances the team gave him. “I neglected to mention that Mr. Hall is now _Dr._ Hall of the archaeology department at St. Roch University.”

“Another thing that hasn’t changed,” Sara muttered to Kendra. “Rip not telling us things.”

“Now, there are worse things I’ve neglected to tell you!” Rip protested. Then his shoulders slumped and he let out a grunt of despair. “That did _not_ come out right,” he complained as the team snickered around him.

“Yeah, but we knew what you meant, Rip,” Jax said kindly.

“So you’re teaching where your son was a professor?” Ray asked.

Carter nodded. “Yes.”

“There’s a scholarship in his memory there now,” Kendra added. She looked over at Mick. “I know I blamed you for Aldus’ death, but… Carter and I have talked a lot about what he did while he was Savage’s puppet. I know now that Mick Rory isn’t responsible for the things Chronos did.”

Mick studied the woman for a moment, then grunted. “You can make it up to me at that Bacchus party tonight. Drinks are on you, Birdgirl.”  
  
Kendra dimpled at that, while Rip huffed, “Artifacts first, party afterwards! Now, Dr. Hall, these… items… were part of a Time Pirate’s illicit cargo, jettisoned in the time stream. Gideon’s scans showed they landed here in the New Orleans area.”

He pulled a device from his coat pocket, and with the press of a button projected a hologram of a medallion depicting some ancient Egyptian pharaoh and a sceptre topped with a stylized hawk, wings spread in flight and talons extended. “Here’s what we’re looking for.”

Carter stepped closer to Rip, furrowing his brow as he studied the projection. “Hmm. First Intermediate Period… looks like… 10th Dynasty?”

Rip smirked a little. “Ninth, actually.”

Carter shrugged. “Before my time, either way, and that’s saying something.”

“Indeed,” Rip agreed. “The Time Pirates stole it from the Temple of Heryshef in Herakleopolis.”

“And it’s important that you find it because…?” Kendra asked.

“These two pieces were major discoveries in a dig at Herakleopolis in 1879,” Rip answered. “If they’re not found, then the archeologist in charge of that dig won’t go on to teach and inspire Howard Carter, the man who discovered King Tut’s tomb in 1922.”

Kendra and Carter exchanged a puzzled look. “King who?” Carter asked.

“You’re kidding, right?” Sara said in a surprised voice. Carter shook his head, and Kendra spread her hands in bewilderment.

“Astonishing! Apparently we are already seeing the effects of the theft,” Stein observed. “Anyone who wasn’t in the time stream when it happened wouldn’t know anything about one of the major finds of the 20th century.”

“Yes,” Rip said. “We’ll have to find those artifacts before time sets.”

“What’s the worst that can happen if this… King Tut’s tomb is never found?” Kendra asked.

“Steve Martin won’t make one of the best comedy records ever,” Mick answered, getting smirks and chuckles from some of his teammates.

“That may be true,” Rip conceded with a pained expression, “but more importantly, an exhibition of those artifacts from Tut’s tomb helped to lay the foundation for repairing U.S. relations with Egypt after the Yom Kippur War, which eventually led to the Camp David Accords and the Egypt-Israel Peace Treaty. If we don’t retrieve the stolen items, those events never happen.”

“Making the Middle East even more of a mess than in the original timeline,” Jax said.

Rip nodded and added, “And we need to do this as unobtrusively as possible, to reduce the risk of impacting the timeline.”

“New Orleans is a big place,” Carter pointed out. “Do you have any idea where these pieces fell?”

“We do.” Rip touched the button on his projector, changing the image to a map of the area with two glowing red dots. “One fell here, and the other over here. We don’t know which went where, but that’s not really a worry. This is just a simple recovery, so if we split up we should be able to make short work of it.”

Kendra peered at the projection. “Looks like one of them landed over in Tremé,” she said, “and the other one…”

Carter grimaced. “Blind Lagoon. Great.”

“Is there a problem?” Len asked.

“The university has a research station there. Just a small place, but the guy who runs it is a bit of an ass,” Carter answered. He didn’t notice the amused look Len exchanged with Sara at his words. “Maybe we’ll be lucky and Holland won’t be there.”

“But if he _is_ there, don’t hit him!” Kendra ordered. “I don’t care what he says about your funding.” She shook her head at the others. “The last faculty party got a little too... lively.”

“He threw the first punch,” Carter protested. At Kendra’s dark look, he made a conciliatory motion. “All right, all right. I can take three of you over to the lagoon, and the rest can go with Kendra over to Tremé.”

“I call Team Tremé!” Ray volunteered brightly.

“Oh, _that’s_ not gonna be awkward,” Jax said in a not-quite-undertone to Stein, who rolled his eyes.

Ray glanced around at the rest of the team, furrowing his brow at their expressions, then comprehension dawned. “Oh, you think that I… because Kendra… Guys, it’s not… I just want to take a selfie over at Louis Armstrong Park, which is _in_ Tremé!”

He looked over at his former fianceé. “It’s not that I want to spend time with you… I mean, it’s not that I _don’t_ want to spend time with you…”

The man was digging himself deeper with every word. There was a time when Len would have just watched and enjoyed it.

But that was before the Oculus.

Len opened his mouth to say something to stop Ray’s babble, but Kendra beat him to it. “Ray, it’s okay. I get it. And I remember how much you love Louis Armstrong’s music. We’ll get you your selfie.”

“After we get the artifacts, _please_ ,” Rip begged.

* * *

 

Another thing that hadn’t changed; Ray talking incessantly to fill silence, and to cover up whenever he felt uncomfortable. He was doing it now, sitting next to Kendra in the van she’d borrowed from her school. “You know, I always wanted to go to Mardi Gras. Actually, just to New Orleans any time.”

“Ray, you’re a tech billionaire,” Jax said from the back seat. “You could go anywhere you want, any time you want to.”

“That’s what you think,” Ray answered with a shrug. “The trouble with running a multi-billion-dollar company is that you’re so busy doing what you _have_ to do that you don’t always get the chance to do what you _want_ to do. Instead you’re stuck in shareholder meetings, board meetings, developer meetings...”

“Too many damn meetings!” Mick grumbled. “Give me a share of the multi-billion bucks and I’ll take care of that problem for you.”

“Mr. Rory, murder is not considered an acceptable business practice,” Stein said in that long-suffering tone of his.

“Who said anything about murder?” Mick asked.

Stein sighed. “And neither is arson.”

Jax chuckled. “So much for your future in business, Mick.”

Mick let out a huff. “And so much for the multi-billion bucks.”

Kendra couldn’t help laughing. “Guys, I have to admit I’ve missed this.”

“Enough to want to rejoin the team?” Jax asked brightly.

She smiled and shook her head. “It’s funny. When I first left the team I thought I would eventually come back, once Carter was settled and comfortable living in the 21st century. But... He and I are building a life together here, and it’s a _good_ life. It’s nice to… stop and breathe after four thousand years on the run. We’re both able to do what we want to do without looking over our shoulders all the time.” She chuckled. “And at least at culinary school, I don’t sound like an idiot when I tell people I used to be a barista.”

“None of us ever thought you sounded like an idiot, Miss Saunders,” Stein said kindly. “And the people who run your school must think highly of you, if they’re letting you borrow a school vehicle.”

“Privilege of being the student in charge of the catering team,” Kendra replied.

The professor shrugged a little. “Perhaps. But I, for one, am glad to see you taking charge of your own destiny, instead of letting destiny take charge of you.”

“ _I_ like the way you took Birdman down a peg,” Mick grinned.

Kendra’s eyes met his in the rear-view mirror. “Despite the occasional slip-up, this version of Carter is a much better man than the last one. He’s much more like...like his first self. Khufu. The man I originally fell in love with,” she said, her tone now quiet and sincere. “There’s more to us than just four thousand years of history.”

“As long as you’re happy,” Ray said, just as quietly. Then the smartphone in his hand started beeping. “Oh! The tracker says it’s right… in… there.”

He pointed toward the other side of the street, at a large plot of land covered in greenery. A sign facing the street proclaimed it the Tremé Community Garden. Kendra nodded and parked the van.

“Looks like the artifact is at the back of the garden,” Ray said, leading them down a path running through neat rows of planter boxes filled with a variety of vegetables.

Kendra noticed Mick wrinkling his nose as they walked. “You okay?”

He gave her a quick grin. “Been a long time since I’ve smelled farm smells.”

“Feeling nostalgic?”

That made him bark out a laugh. “For compost and manure? Hell, no!” He pointed at a woman weeding one of the planter boxes. “Don’t miss that either.”

Ray was still fiddling with his phone. “Hmm. Wait a second… it’s moving!” He began to run toward the back of the lot, the others right behind him. “It’s picking up speed!”

They passed through stands of sugarcane, into an alley behind the lot. A panel truck was just turning onto the main street.

“It’s in the truck! Hey! _Hey_!” Ray shouted, waving his arms. He dropped them as the truck kept going. “Well, dammit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There really is a Krewe of Bacchus parade and gala during Mardi Gras, with a celebrity King each year.
> 
> In the comics, Carter Hall actually was an archaeologist.
> 
> And there are a couple of Rip Hunter Easter eggs in this chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ray learns not to irritate Cajun chefs, Mick gets to play with fire, and Len & Sara get a new way to try Rip's patience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A location note: St. Roch is actually a neighborhood of New Orleans. The Arrowverse never gives a location for its version of St. Roch, so I am going with the actual location.

“That’s the research station?” Sara asked incredulously as Carter’s Jeep trundled along the dirt trail from the main road. 

The place was a decrepit cabin, with a beat-up pickup truck parked in front. Sara would have thought the site was abandoned, if not for the hum of the generator beside the cabin.

“Holland isn’t completely off base when he complains about funding. He doesn’t get a lot of it. In fact, if the aquarium didn’t let him use their lab for free, he’d probably have to shut down,” Carter replied as he parked the Jeep. “He’s actually got some great ideas about improving ecosystems and turning deserts into gardens. But he just doesn’t know how to charm potential funders into opening their wallets.”

“Which is why you think our cover story will work,” Len said, stepping out of the Jeep.

“One thing that hasn’t changed in four thousand years. Money still makes the world go around,” Carter said with a smile.

“It doesn’t change in the next 150 years either, Dr. Hall,” Rip said.

The cabin door banged open. A tall blond man carrying a wooden crate strode outside. “About damn time you got here!” he snarled at them. Then he stopped and blinked, seeming to suddenly recognize Carter. “Dr. Hall. I thought you were someone else.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Dr. Holland,” Carter returned. “I think I may have a little help for your cash flow problem.”

Holland narrowed his eyes at them and grunted. “Well, come on in.”

He led them back into the cabin and set the crate down on a table. There was a soft  _ yip _ from inside the box. Sara sidled over to investigate, and then let out an exclamation of delighted surprise. “Oh, how cute!” 

The crate held a tiny pup in a nest of rags. It  _ yipped _ again, standing and wagging its tail. She started to reach into the box to pet it.

“Don’t touch it,” Holland warned, and Sara froze. “That’s not a puppy. It’s a red wolf cub. We need to keep human contact minimal.”

“I didn’t think there were any of those left in Louisiana,” Carter said in a surprised tone. “They’re very endangered, aren’t they?”

“Yeah. Maybe even a little more so now. I found him out in the swamp yesterday. His mother and littermates were all dead,” Holland answered. Sara winced in sympathy for the little orphan. Holland continued, “I’ve been waiting for Fish and Wildlife to come get him. I thought you were them. Sorry for snapping at you, but this little guy is taking me away from my research. Time is money, and you know I don’t have a lot of that, Dr. Hall.”

He settled into a well-worn office chair, but didn’t ask them to take seats. Not that there were any other seats to be taken. “So, tell me. How are you going to help me with my cash flow problem?”

Carter waved a hand toward Sara, Len and Rip. “My friends here are from the Louisiana Film Connection. They’re looking for a location for a graduation project, and they’re willing to pay a… significant… location fee straight to your project.” 

Holland tilted his head curiously. “And if you don’t choose this site?”

“We’ll still compensate you for the… courtesy of letting us take a look ‘round,” Rip said, pulling a wad of Gideon-made (but still legal tender) bills from his coat pocket.

Holland straightened up at the sight, and Sara could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. Carter leaned toward the scientist a little, giving him a significant look. “But they’re asking for your discretion. We just need to keep this between ourselves.”   
  
Holland’s eyebrows shot up at that. Then he looked over at Len and frowned. “Aren’t you a little old to be a film student?”   


Len merely raised his eyebrows. Rip cleared his throat. “It’s  _ my _ graduation project. Leonard and Sara are my leads. I want to see them in the atmosphere.”

Holland pointed at the money. “A film student flashing that kind of cash?”

Rip considered the wad of bills. “This? Pocket change in my family.”

“Which is why he keeps it in his pocket,” Len added.

“Hmm. And you need  _ discretion _ .” Holland leaned back in his chair. “What kind of movie?”

“Horror movie,” Sara answered promptly, while Len said, “Art film,” and Rip said, “Historical romance.”

Holland looked at the three of them suspiciously. Then he shook his head with a soft chuckle. “You know, I don’t care if you three are making a porno, as long as your money is good.”

* * *

Mick tugged at his white collar in irritation. “This thing is a damned straitjacket. And the hat itches,” he muttered as he followed Haircut through the kitchen entrance, nodding casually to the security guards on either side of the door.

The woman at the garden had told them the truck was taking crates of just-picked spinach and watercress to the kitchen at the Morial Convention Center, where preparations for the evening’s big Bacchus party were underway. The smartphone tracker confirmed it, leading them from the garden through Tremé (and right past Louis Armstrong Park, but they didn’t have time for Haircut’s selfie), skirting the French Quarter and passing within sight of the Superdome before finally arriving at their heavily guarded destination.

“It may be uncomfortable, but it’s the best way to get you past security,” Birdgirl told them over the comms. “There are more than five thousand people coming to this party tonight, including some pretty big names in business and government, so they’re not taking any chances. Even with Hawkman and Hawkgirl as special guests.”

“Well, it’s working so far. We’re in,” Haircut answered, looking at his phone as they made their way past rows of workers chopping vegetables, stirring sauces and pounding raw meat with wooden mallets. “Looks like our target is right…”

“Hey! You there!”

They both looked up at the sound of an angry, thickly accented voice. It came from a florid little man wearing a red chef’s coat and one of those poofy-topped hats that made him look a foot taller than he really was. “Give me that cell phone!”

He held his hand out imperiously. Haircut shot Mick a wide-eyed look, and Poofy Hat snapped his fingers.  _ “Now!” _ he ordered.

Haircut gulped and held out the phone. The little man took it and shook it at him. “I thought I gave orders: No cell phones in here! No distractions!”

He put the phone down on the metallic counter next to them… and then smashed it with one of the wooden mallets.

“Now, get to work, both of you!” the man snapped before stomping off to harangue other kitchen workers.

Haircut picked up the remains of the phone, then dropped them again when they sparked a little. “Uh, guys? I think we have a problem.”

* * *

Rip could still feel a little of the heat of embarrassment in his cheeks as they picked their way carefully through the marshy wetlands along the edge of the lagoon, following the indicator on his tracker. Leonard and Sara were still snickering and bumping each other’s shoulders.

“Will you two please  _ stop _ it?” Rip finally snapped in irritation.

“Oh, c’mon, Rip!” Sara answered, amusement thick in her tone. “You’ve got to admit it’s funny.”

“I’m kind of flattered that somebody can take me for a porn star at my age,” Leonard said with a smirk.

“Don’t either of you get any ideas!” Rip warned them while Dr. Hall outright guffawed. “And don’t you encourage them!”

Dr. Hall shrugged, still grinning. “Loosen up, Captain. Sara’s right. It  _ is _ funny. And it’s nice to know your missions aren’t always grim.”

Rip paused, the stiffness dropping away from his shoulders as he reflected that Dr. Hall’s experience on the Waverider had been grim indeed. He chuckled softly in concession. “I suppose you’re right,” he admitted. Then he pointed a warning finger at Leonard and Sara. “But still... No ideas!”

“Can’t stop us from thinking, Rip,” Leonard drawled, still looking insufferably smug.

Rip rolled his eyes. “Then keep your…  _ thinking _ … out of the common areas, all right?”

Sara bumped Leonard’s shoulder one more time. “I think we can manage that,” she said with a smile, before stage-whispering,  _ “Behave!” _ to her lover, who merely kept smirking.

Rip gave Dr. Hall a half shrug that said,  _ What can you do? _ Then he turned his attention back to his device. “It looks like our item is just about a hundred meters in that direction. Let’s go retrieve it, and then you two can…  _ think _ … all you want… out of my sight!”

He rolled his eyes once more as they began snickering again.

* * *

Stein adjusted his toque and tugged at his crisp white chef’s coat, then nodded to the security guards before leading Jefferson and Miss Saunders into the convention center kitchen. After a moment, they spotted Dr. Palmer and Mr. Rory washing a crateful of greens at one of the large double sinks, and made their way over to their teammates.

“Had any luck yet?” Jefferson asked.

“Would we still be up to our elbows in green stuff if we did?” Mr. Rory grumbled.

Dr. Palmer shook his head. “This is the second crate so far. No sign of any ancient Egyptian anything. And there were a dozen crates from the garden.”

“Well, now we’ve got five sets of eyes looking,” Jefferson said, picking up another crate filled with spinach. “We should find it pretty quick if all of us start washing veggies.”

“You! You there!”

Mick growled under his breath. “Not this guy again!”

A man in a red chef’s coat and matching toque stormed over to their group, planting himself in front of Stein like an angry little bulldog. He looked at the school name embroidered on Stein’s jacket and then looked up at him. “You are here from the St. Roch Culinary School?”

“As it says on my coat,” Stein replied calmly. “I am Chef… Victor… and these are some of my top students.”

The little man looked around at the group. “ _ Hmph _ . Then we should not be wasting so many of them on simply washing vegetables! You two!” He pointed at Jefferson and Kendra. “Go help the team working on the crab cakes.” 

His finger moved to Dr. Palmer. “You… keep washing. It will teach you to follow orders and not bring cell phones where they are not wanted!”

He glared at Stein, who held up his hands and said, “I did warn them.”

The other man huffed, and then pointed at Mr. Rory. “And you!” He wrinkled his brow. “Aren’t you a little old to be a culinary student?”

Mr. Rory snorted. “Learning a trade is a condition of my parole,” he said.

The little man’s eyebrows shot up into his toque for a moment. “ _ Hmph _ . You may be joking…”

“I’m not,” Mr. Rory said.

The chef ignored him. “But we are too busy for me to care even if you are not. How are you with a chef’s torch?”   


Mr. Rory’s eyes lit up at the word  _ torch _ . “Fire is what I’m best at,” he answered.

The little man in red looked over at Stein, who could only nod in agreement. It was the truth, after all.

“Very well, I need you to help with the crème brûlées. Follow me,  _ s’il vous plais _ .” 

They looked uncertainly at each other as he turned on his heel and began to walk away. In a low tone, Stein said, “Remember what Captain Hunter said about being unobtrusive. Let’s just play along.”

The little chef turned back toward them and clapped his hands twice, sharply. “What is all this chatter? Get to work!  _ Allons-y! _ ”

“Yes, Chef,” Kendra replied obediently. Jefferson and Dr. Palmer echoed her, while Mr. Rory just gave an affirmative grunt and followed the little man. They’d taken just a few steps when he turned back. “Chef Victor? Would you please join us?”

Stein started. “Oh… of course!” He shrugged at the others and fell into step beside the chef. “What can I do for you, Chef... ?”

“Gilles,” the little man supplied. “Let us get your student started on the crème brûlées first.”

He led them over to a narrow metal table covered with the custards in small white dishes. Chef Gilles picked up a chef’s torch from a nearby counter and pressed a button, lighting the flame.

“Now, watch!” He turned toward the table and set the flame to one of the white dishes. “Like this, do you see? Just thin layers, very nice.” He turned off the torch and handed it to Mr. Rory. “Now, show me what you have learned.”

Mr. Rory took the torch, met Stein’s eyes and grinned before turning it on. Stein swallowed hard as Mr. Rory turned to the table and laid the flame against one of the custards.

After just a few seconds, the arsonist lifted the torch away and turned off the flame. Chef Gilles nodded in satisfaction. “ _ Ca c'est bon _ . Now do the rest.”

He turned to Stein and jerked a thumb toward a window above the kitchen. “Chef Victor, let us go...  _ supervise  _ from the manager’s office, _ oui _ ?” He pulled a flask slightly out of his coat pocket. “Teacher’s privilege, no?” he asked in a low voice, with a conspiratorial smile.

“Uh, yes, I suppose,” Stein answered. Before following Chef Gilles, he took one more look at Mr. Rory, who was again focused on his flame.

“Heaven help us,” Stein muttered.

* * *

Traveling about a hundred meters was a simple thing when you were walking down a city block or through a grassy meadow. But slogging through about a hundred meters of swamp land was quite another matter. Rip and his team found themselves obliged to take more than a few “long cuts” around boggy areas.

It would have been easier if Hawkman could have simply flown to the site. But even if Dr. Hall had brought his uniform, once they were out of sight of the research station the trees and their streamers of trailing Spanish moss were too dense for safe flying, obliging them to continue on foot.

The only good thing about this hike was that Leonard and Sara had finally ceased their infernal snickering. Although… now Leonard was complaining about the midday heat and the bugs.

Perhaps the snickering was better.

Rip sighed and looked at his device again. “Just a little farther.”

“Good,” Dr. Hall said, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. “You know, the Cajuns say this is monster country, but I think it’s too hot for monsters.”

“Monsters?” Sara asked with a laugh. “What kind of monsters?”

“Well, there’s the Cajun version of the werewolf,” Dr. Hall answered. “They call him the  _ rougarou _ . And swamps like this are also supposed to be the perfect hideout for  _ Père Malfait,  _ the Cajun boogeyman.”

“Sounds like you’ve gone native,” Leonard observed.

Dr. Hall shrugged. “Legends and folk tales have always interested me. One of the reasons I chose archaeology.”

“And not just because you have insider information on ancient Egypt?” Sara asked archly.

“Ah! Here we are at last!” Rip announced.

The tracker had led them to a tarp, strung high in the air like a hammock between a trio of cypresses. “What in the world?” Sara wondered.

“This is one of Holland’s rainwater sampling stations. He borrowed the idea from Berkeley. He sets them up high so animals don’t get at them,” Dr. Hall explained. Then he shrugged. “He bent my ear about it at the last faculty party.”

“Before or after the fists started flying?” Leonard asked drily.

“Well, our artifact is in there,” Rip said, the tracker flashing madly as he moved under the tarp. “Dr. Hall, could you…”

Hawkman’s wings were already unfurled and beating to lift him off the ground. “Yeah, it’s here. It’s the sceptre.” He grimaced as he reached into the tarp. “Wonder when Holland last checked this station. There’s a lot of algae in here.”  With a frown he started tugging. “The talons are tangled in something….”

Suddenly there was a tearing sound, and Hawkman’s wings flapped frantically to steady himself as he jerked backward. The tarp split open...

And Rip found himself being showered with a shimmering green slime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Found the idea for the rainwater sampling station online; there actually is such a setup in Berkeley. Although I don't think they have the algae problem!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ray gets dishpan hands, Len is a smartass, Rip is irritated and Stein just wants some peace and quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter refers to my previous works, "A Time For Great Things" and "Kissing Lessons." While I'd be delighted if you'd read and review that, the short version for the uninitiated is that the Oculus blew Leonard onto Jurgen's Ridge, an anomalous place in time where one can see past, present and future. That can have a serious impact on one's psyche.

_ “Ray, we’ve got the sceptre. Any luck with the medallion?” _

Ray let out a sigh at Sara’s report. At least now he knew which artifact they were looking for. “No medallion yet,” he answered, tossing another bunch of just-washed greens into the strainer next to his sink. “But I do have a nice case of dishpan hands.”

Sara chuckled.  _ “You’ve got it easy compared to Rip. We’ll see you back at the Waverider.” _

Ray sighed again as Jax sidled up to him. “Let me give you a hand,” the younger man said.

“Aren’t you afraid Chef Bulldog will come and yell at you?”   


Jax chuckled. “Nah. Take a look.” He jerked a thumb back and up. Ray looked that direction and saw Stein and the little chef in red sitting next to a window overlooking the kitchen.

They were passing a bottle back and forth.

“If the feeling I’m getting from Gray is any indication, Chef Bulldog is a little toasted right now,” Jax said, grabbing another handful of spinach to wash it. “Whatever’s in that bottle’s some strong stuff.”

Ray raised an eyebrow. “Professor Stein gets tipsy and you feel it?”

Jax nodded. “Yeah. It’s all part of our psychic connection. The bad part is I also feel the hangovers.”

“At least he can take one of Gideon’s hangover pills,” Ray said with a grin, digging into the unwashed spinach. His eyes widened as his fingers closed on something that didn’t feel leafy. “Hey… I think I found it!”

He pulled apart a tangle of dirty leaves, revealing a golden medallion engraved with a hawk’s head on one side, and some Egyptian pharaoh on the other. “That was a lot of work for something so tiny,” he said, pocketing the relic before rinsing the spinach and throwing it into the strainer. Then he tapped his comm. “Team, target acquired. Let’s get out of here.”

* * *

 

Chef Gilles frowned as he looked around the large kitchen. Chef Victor had offered an awkward-sounding excuse before leaving the manager’s office, and now his students were nowhere to be seen. He strode through the rows of busy worktables… the crab cakes were done, the crème brûlées were beautifully browned…

He frowned as he reached the sink where that fellow with the cell phone had been working. He’d left a strainer full of spinach sitting on the counter beside it. With an exasperated sigh, Gilles picked up the strainer and carried it to another counter, where a worker was processing greens and garlic to be used in the oysters Rockefeller. Gilles poured the greens from his strainer into the huge bowl of spinach and watercress, and then stalked off muttering, “If you want something done you have to do it yourself.”

He didn’t notice the strange shimmer that leached from the veins of the new greens into the droplets of water on them, spreading through the rest of the bowl. Neither did the kitchen worker who poured the whole bowlful into the industrial-sized processor.

* * *

 

Holland looked into the crate and grimaced at the mess the wolf cub had made in the nest of rags. “This is why I never wanted pets,” he muttered, pulling on a pair of plastic gloves before lifting the cub out of the box and setting it on the table. At least it hadn’t soiled itself too; the Fish and Wildlife folks had said minimal contact and Holland wasn’t sure whether a bath would cross the line. 

“Now you stay there,” he told the cub as he began to clean up the crate. 

He had just disposed of the dirty rags when the cabin door opened to reveal Dr. Hall and his friends…

One of whom was stained green, soaked to the skin and looking livid. 

Of course it was the guy who’d been flashing the cash earlier. Holland sighed internally as his fantasies of what he’d do with a miracle infusion of cash vanished like bayou mist. “What in the world happened?”

"Dr. Holland, I’m afraid we had a little… accident with one of your rainwater sampling stations,” Dr. Hall said, holding out a wad of cloth: The remains of one of his tarps. “There’s still a lot of algae on this, and I remember you talked about algae testing before, so I thought I’d bring it back to you. Mr. Hunter is willing to reimburse you for the damage, in addition to the scouting fee.”

Puzzled, Holland took the tarp. “Those tarps are eight feet off the ground. How in the world did you…. Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.” He frowned. “You only mentioned the scouting fee. So the.. ah... atmosphere…”

“Was too full of bugs,” the actor… Leonard… stated, while draping an arm around the blond woman’s shoulders. “People don’t pay good money to see allergic reactions all over our…”

Hunter interrupted him. “We do appreciate your allowing us to explore your research area,” he said, approaching the table with a thick sheaf of bills in hand. “And I hope this will help you with your research.”   


“Every little bit helps,” Holland said, accepting the bills. “If you could spread the word to your film school friends… Hey!”

The wolf cub had wandered right to the edge of the table, and peering over it, lost his balance and fell. Hunter was closest and dove for the animal. There was a yelp, then Hunter came up holding the cub with a startled expression.

“Bloody hell! It  _ bit _ me!”

* * *

Kendra’s eyes widened to see a soggy, slightly green Rip Hunter enter the bridge of the Waverider with his team. “Rip, what...”

Len held up a warning hand. “Trust me, Kendra, don’t ask.”

Rip answered anyway. “Oh, I have had one  _ hell _ of a day, Miss Saunders,” he growled. “First I’m taken for a director of.. of…  _ blue movies _ …”

Sara started snickering. Len merely smirked. Rip glared at both of them and continued, “Then your boyfriend dumps slimy water all over me…”

Carter shrugged and held up the sceptre they’d retrieved. “Don’t ask.”

“And then I got  _ bitten _ by a wolf cub!” Rip finished, holding up his hand. It had a small band-aid on the top.

“It was just a little nip!” Sara laughed.

Stein let out a moan from the jump seat where he sat cradling his head. “Please, all of you, not so loud?” the professor begged.

“And what happened to  _ you _ ?” Sara asked.

“Professor Stein is suffering the effects of drinking too much whiskey,” Gideon announced cheerfully.

“Don’t ask,” Jax added, coming onto the bridge with a glass of water. He handed it to his counterpart and dropped a small white pill into the older man’s palm. Then he stared at Rip. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Don’t ask,” Rip sighed.

“But we got what we came for,” Len said, pointing to the sceptre.

“And so did we,” Ray added, pulling the medallion from his pocket. “Just had to dig through a ton of spinach to find it, but find it we did.”

“Then it’s party time!” Mick declared.

Rip collected the artifacts and took them into his study. “You lot can go  _ party _ ,” he said as he put them into a box on his table. “I think I’ve had enough for one day.”

“The same here,” Stein said, having downed his pill and drained his glass of water.

“You guys are gonna miss one hell of a party,” Carter said.

Kendra nudged him. “But we understand,” she said. She pulled an envelope from her purse and handed it to Sara. “Tickets for all of you. We’ll meet you there. Oh… and it’s black tie,” she added.

“You mean I’ve gotta wear a monkey suit?” Mick complained.

“It won’t kill you, Mick,” Len snorted before draping an arm across Sara’s shoulders. “C’mon, Sara. We can work on our porn star names while we get gussied up.”   


Kendra’s eyebrows shot up. She glanced at Carter, then Rip, who merely sighed again. “Really, Kendra, don’t ask.”

* * *

Holland waved at the departing Fish and Wildlife van, carrying its precious cargo of  _ canis lupus rufus _ . He looked at the westering sun and decided there really wasn’t enough daylight left to go out in the field.

But Dr. Hall had brought a little of the field to him, with that torn tarp. He could at least examine some of the still damp algae on it. 

He went back into the cabin and turned on the radio. A little jazz always helped him think.

He brought the tarp over to his work bench, unfolding it next to his microscope. He picked up a swab and a slide and looked at the fabric, catching a strange shimmer he’d never seen on algae before.

“That’s odd,” he murmured to himself, dabbing at the area with the swab and then holding the green-stained cotton before his eyes. “Let’s see what you’re all about.”

* * *

Rip sighed as he dropped his coat onto the floor and began to pull his shirt over his head. He’d been soaked through, and like Dr. Hall, he wondered how often Dr. Holland was checking his sampling stations.

He winced at a sudden sharp pain on his hand. His sleeve had caught on the plaster Dr. Holland had provided, tearing it off along with a few hairs. The bite mark was still bleeding slightly.

“ _ ‘Little nip,’ _ indeed,” Rip huffed, remembering Sara’s teasing. “Gideon, would you please start the shower for me?”   
  
“Certainly, Captain.”

The water began running as Rip stripped the rest of his clothes off. At least the fabricator would restore everything like new, Rip thought, scratching his scalp where the green goop had landed the thickest.

He didn’t notice the shimmer that traveled from the green stuff, up his fingers, zeroing in on the still-bleeding wolf bite.

* * *

 

Len had to hand it to the Hawks; they certainly knew how to make an entrance. It started with about a dozen torch bearers marching into the convention center, winding through groups of people in a circuitous path toward the main stage, followed by dancers and acrobats who threw beads and plastic doubloons to the audience. Then, bearing torches themselves, Hawkman and Hawkgirl flew into the convention center, circling above the crowd in an intricate pattern before landing on the stage. They handed their torches off to attendants dressed like ancient Greeks, and then waved to the crowd.

Relaxing on the royal dais next to the thrones Carter and Kendra would soon be occupying as king and queen of this shindig, Len didn’t pay much attention to the speech-making by local officials. Instead, he watched Sara, elegant in a purple gown that clung in all the right spots. She was laughing at Jax and Ray as they animatedly explained what their team had been doing that afternoon.

She caught his gaze and gave him a saucy wink from behind her mask of green, purple and mottled gold feathers, a promise for later twinkling in her eyes.

Gideon had made masks for all of them. For Len, she kept it simple with basic black velvet. Jax wore a glittery golden mask, which Len resolved to steal later for Lisa. Raymond’s mask was green and purple, topped with the three points of a jester’s cap. 

Len thought that was appropriate.

Mick’s mask was also appropriate: red and orange feathers like flames. He was, unsurprisingly, enthralled by the torches that were now planted around the stage where Hawkman and Hawkgirl were being honored. He’d already told them about his afternoon of torching crème brûlées, but it looked like that might not have been quite enough to appease his need for fire. Len would have to talk to Rip about making a stop someplace where they could light a bonfire. Perhaps after they returned the relics to ancient Egypt.

New cheers and applause stirred him from his reverie. The Hawks had left the main stage, making one more pass over the partygoers before landing on the dais and taking seats on the twin thrones. Hawkman was now wearing a gaudy golden necklace with a pendant cluster of purple grapes. 

“Nice bling,” Len drawled.

Carter chuckled. “Not quite as bad as some of the stuff I had to wear in my first life,” he said. 

Kendra giggled. “Remember that big golden collar your father gave you for your 20th birthday? The one with all the crystals on it?”

Carter groaned. “That thing was hideous! And way too tight. I thought it was going to choke me to death!”

“I know the feeling,” Mick grumbled, tugging at his collar and tie. When they wouldn’t loosen to his satisfaction, he growled, pulling the tie undone and unbuttoning the collar. “Ahhh!”

“Feeling better?” Kendra asked with a smile. 

“I need one more thing to really make me feel better, Birdgirl,” Mick replied. “You’re supposed to buy me a drink, remember?”

Kendra laughed again and rose gracefully. “Sure, Mick.”   


“I’m coming with. I wanna sample some of those crab cakes we were making,” Jax said.

“And I have to try one of Mick’s crème brûlées,” Sara said. “Len, you coming?”

“Too crowded down there right now,” he answered with a shake of his head. She frowned at him, but he gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Sara. You go ahead. Have fun.”

Carter gave him a questioning look as the others moved off. “We barely knew each other last time around, but the Leonard Snart Kendra told me about would be right there in the crowd, picking every pocket he could reach.”

Len shrugged. “People change.”

“You all right, Leonard?” Raymond asked with some concern. “You’re not having any Ridge aftereffects, are you?”   


Carter straightened up curiously. “Ridge aftereffects?”

Raymond nodded. “His first two weeks back…”   
  
“Let’s just say I don’t recommend getting swept up by a psychic pole in the time stream,” Len interrupted, giving Raymond a significant glare. “There are some things you just can’t unsee.”

Raymond’s eyes widened. “Things?” he repeated. “Things like…?”

Len smirked. “If you don’t ask, I won’t tell. You know what Rip says about knowing your own future anyway.”

“Oh.” Raymond considered that for a moment, then said, “Uh, you know, I think I’ll go and sample some of the food too. After all, I did do all that work.”

Len chuckled as he watched Raymond follow the others into the crowd.

“You didn’t really see anything of his future, did you?” Carter asked.

Len turned to him with a slight shake of his head. “Nothing he needs to be worried about. But I still enjoy yanking his chain.”

The two men shared a grin for a moment. Then Carter turned serious and said, “You know, I never thanked you for what you did, sacrificing yourself so the team could kill Savage and rescue Kendra and me.”

“Well, I didn’t really sacrifice myself,” Len pointed out. 

Carter shook his head, waving that off. “It’s the thought that counts…”

“Now you’re making it sound like a Hallmark moment,” Len said drily. “I don’t do those.”

“Snart… Leonard. I’m serious. That was…” Carter paused, as if searching for words, then went on, “I do remember that in my last life, I wasn’t very respectful toward you or your partner. That version of me was…”

“Conceited?” Leonard offered when Carter paused, obviously searching for words. “Arrogant? Pompous? Stuck up? I could go on. Had a week in Iron Heights once where they wouldn’t give me anything but a thesaurus to read.”

Carter had started laughing at “arrogant.” Still chortling, he shook his head. “All right, I get it. Last Me was an ass. I’m trying to do better this time around. But still…” The humor dropped away. “I’ve known a lot of brave men… and women… over four thousand years. What you did that day at the Vanishing Point took more courage than all of them put together.”

Carter extended his hand. “Thank you. From both of us.”

Len considered the other man for a moment, then took his hand and shook it. “You’re welcome.”

Carter smiled and settled back on his throne. “So, have you put ‘hero’ on your resume yet?”   


* * *

The crab cakes weren’t bad, Kendra thought as she finished her piece. She might have used just a tad more cayenne and a touch less salt. But Jax seemed to be enjoying them.

Sara was raving over the crème brûlée, while Mick grinned at her over the rim of the boilermaker the bartender had whipped up when he couldn’t decide between beer or whiskey. 

Ray wove through the crowd toward them, a glass of champagne in one hand and a small plate laden with several stuffed shells in the other. “Oysters Rockefeller,” he announced as he joined them at their cocktail table, holding the plate out to the others. Sara and Jax both shook their heads, as did Kendra.

“It may be sacrilegious for a New Orleans culinary student to say this, but I’ve always thought they were overrated,” she said.

Ray shrugged and started on one of the half shells. Mick peered at them dubiously. “There’s green stuff on them.”

Ray nodded as he swallowed. “All that spinach I had to wash? It was for this. Want some?”

Mick shook his head. “No thanks. Bad things happen when I eat green stuff.”

* * *

 

The last of the green slime swirled away down the drain. Rip turned off the water and grabbed a towel to dry himself off. He felt a wave of tiredness wash over him as he wrapped the towel around his waist. “Gideon, turn the washroom lights off, and the bedroom lights down to twenty percent, please?” he asked as he returned to the bedroom, tripping over one of his soiled shoes along the way. “Bollocks!”

“Are you all right, Captain?”

“Just tired, Gideon,” he sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed as the lights went down. He really should be tracking a time period for returning the artifacts to the temple, but first he needed to close his eyes. 

Just for a minute.

* * *

Holland rubbed his eyes, then bent back to his microscope. That weird shimmer wasn’t some new form of algae. It looked more like a bacterium, but he’d ever seen bacteria like this before.

After a moment he sat back and shook his head. He needed better equipment for this. Fortunately they had it at the aquarium. He folded up the tarp and carried it out to his truck. Within moments, it was rumbling down the dirt road, the radio blaring  _ “When The Saints Go Marching In.” _

* * *

Martin hummed to himself as he put the kettle on in the galley. Gideon’s hangover cure had worked its magic.

Never again would he get into a drinking match with a crazy Cajun chef. Even in the interest of remaining unobtrusive.

Now he was looking forward to a rare evening of relaxing with some Earl Grey and a good book. As much as he enjoyed the company of his fellow time travelers -- even Mr. Rory, if he was honest -- there were times when a man just wanted some peace and--

“Professor Stein? Something is wrong with Captain Hunter.” If an artificial intelligence could sound worried, Gideon did, and that immediately quelled any resentment Stein might have had for the loss of his anticipated quiet.

“What do you mean, Gideon? Where is he?”   


“In his quarters. His vitals suddenly became erratic, and he is not answering me.”

Frowning, Stein turned off the electric burner. “You can’t detect anything more specific?”

“I can only monitor vitals outside of the Medbay.”

Stein nodded. “All right, Gideon. I’ll see what’s going on with our captain.” He left the galley, headed for Rip’s quarters.

* * *

“May I cut in?”

Kendra nodded politely to the chamber of commerce official who’d been dancing with her, and smiled gratefully at Ray as the very nice but very clumsy man moved off. “My hero,” she told Ray in an undertone as she moved into his arms. “If he’d stepped on my toes one more time…”   


“I noticed that, so I thought I’d bail you out. That’s okay, right?”

“We’re still friends, Ray,” Kendra said, “and I hope we always will be.”

He smiled. “Me too.”

* * *

“Captain Hunter?”

Martin waited a moment for an answer to his knock. When there was none, he said, “Gideon, are his vitals still erratic?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Then perhaps you had better let me in.”

The door slid open, and Stein walked into the dimly lit Captain’s quarters. The bed was rumpled. Some clothing and a white towel were scattered on the floor. Then he heard a noise from the darkened bathroom, something between a heave and a growl. “Captain? Are you all right?”

He started toward the bathroom. A dark shadow leaned over the sink. “Captain Hunter?”

With a growl, the shadow turned and lunged toward Stein, who stumbled back and caught his foot on one of the discarded shoes on the floor. Stein fell backwards, staring up at the still-growling…  _ creature _ that moved into the half-light.

“Captain Hunter?” Stein whispered in disbelief. “Rip? Uh… there’s a nice... werewolf!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mick is proven right in his warnings against eating green stuff, and Rip and Ray are having a really bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the shortest chapter of this story, but plenty still happens.

Jax bounded up onto the dais. “Something’s wrong back at the Waverider,” he announced. “Gray is scared, and I’d swear he’s scared of Rip.”

Len sighed. “And we thought we didn’t need comms tonight. We’d better go.”   
  
Carter shook his head. “It’ll take you too long. Surface streets aren’t back to normal yet after the parade. I can get to the Waverider faster,” he said. “I’ll call Kendra as soon as I know anything.”

Hawkman extended his wings and flew off.

* * *

 

The… werewolf… Rip?... snarled at Stein, and then ran out of the Captain’s quarters.

“Gideon?” Stein asked weakly. “Was that really Captain Hunter?”

“I’m afraid it was,” the AI responded.

“What happened to him?”

“Without a Medbay scan, I can only theorize that he was exposed to some kind of mutagen.”

Stein got to his feet. “Wonderful. Where is he now?”

“In the galley. I’m afraid he’s making rather a mess of things there.”   
  
“We’ll worry about housekeeping later, Gideon. Can you contain him in there?”

Now Gideon sounded apologetic. “I’m sorry, Professor Stein, but those kind of defenses are not part of my programming.”

Of course not. If they had been, neither the time pirates nor Vandal Savage would have been able to run amok on the Waverider. Stein sighed and stepped cautiously into the passageway. “Well, then, I’ll just hope the Captain’s now eaten enough of our supplies that he won’t want to eat  _ me _ .”

* * *

Kendra watched her partner soar up over the crowd and out of the main hall. “Now where is he going?” she wondered aloud.

“We probably ought to go check,” Ray said, releasing his hold on her. He took two steps toward the dais, then stopped, swaying dizzily.

Kendra put a hand on his arm to help steady him. “Ray? Are you all right?”

Ray shook his head. “I don’t know… I feel… strange…”

He pulled his jester’s mask off and ran a hand through his hair, then frowned as he looked at that hand. The frown turned into bewilderment as he saw green tendrils tangled in his fingers. 

Kendra’s eyes widened as more tendrils sprang up through his hair and skin, burgeoning into vines with leaves sprouting from them as they grew and covered him.

* * *

 

“What’s going on?” Sara asked as she returned to the dais.

“Something’s wrong with Gray and Rip,” Jax told them. “Carter went to check it out.”

“Are you still getting a scared feeling from Stein?” Len asked.

Jax made a waggling motion with his hand. “A little bit, but I’m also getting some frustration. I think…”

Whatever Jax was thinking got interrupted by a scream from the crowd below.  _ “Père Malfait!”  _ someone shouted, and the cry was taken up by more voices.

Len scanned the floor, and raised his eyebrows at what looked like shambling, people-sized piles of leaves and vines, moving through the crowd. One of them was looming over Kendra…

* * *

“Ray? Ray, what’s happening?”

Kendra could only hear a moan from behind the leaves that now obscured Ray’s face. The vines were still growing, flowing down over his shoulders, covering his body and the arms that reached out to her--

Until Mick rammed into him like a freight train, sending Ray flying into the crowd. Mick whirled toward her, his mask now askew and some of the brilliant feathers broken. “You okay, Birdgirl?” Then he looked around. “Where’s Haircut?”

“Mick… that  _ was _ Ray.”

Mick pulled the mask down around his neck, his eyes growing huge. “I  _ told _ him bad things happen when you eat green stuff!”

* * *

Holland was just getting out of his truck at the aquarium when he heard the  _ whoosh _ of something flying over him. His eyes grew wide as he realized Hawkman was heading for the top of the building.

“What are you doing here?” he murmured. He looked at the tarp and decided it could wait a little longer. Holland ran to the fire escape at the side of the building and began to climb.

* * *

The Waverider shimmered into view, the entry hatch lowering just as Carter landed on the roof. He ran up it, furling his wings away. “Rip? Professor Stein?”

“Dr. Hall?” Stein sounded anxious, but uninjured.

“Jax was worried about you,” Carter called back, walking cautiously toward the stairway to the upper levels.

Stein gave something of a hysterical laugh. “As well he should be. Captain Hunter is… well, come up and see for yourself.”

And Carter did see as he topped the stairs and rounded the corner, to be confronted by a tall, hairy, wolf-like…  _ thing _ hunching in the middle of the passageway.

Growling.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Well, in the movies you'd need a silver bullet."

It looked very much like Hollywood’s image of a werewolf: Tufted ears, gleaming teeth in a long snout, large paw-like hands with sharp claws. Its thick fur was reddish, and its eyes were blue… the same blue as Rip’s eyes. “Is that…?”

“Captain Hunter? Yes,” Stein replied, peeking around the far corner where two passages intersected. “Gideon says he must have been exposed to some kind of mutagen.”

“Are you hurt, Professor?”

“Only my dignity, Dr. Hall. Best we worry about Captain Hunter.” Stein held up a hypodermic. “I got a sedative from the medbay, but I haven’t been able to get close enough to administer it. Do you think you can keep him occupied?”

Carter nodded as Rip’s growling turned into a whine. “He sounds like he’s in pain.” He stepped closer, gingerly extending a gloved hand. Rip growled again, snapping at him. Carter snatched his hand back.

“I think your headgear is frightening him,” Stein suggested, edging out from around the corner.

Carter pulled his mask off and tossed it to the side. “Is that better, Rip?” he asked quietly, crouching down to get at eye level with him.

Rip panted and then whined again. Those almost-human eyes watched him closely. Carter moved a little closer and again extended his hand, not looking up at Stein as the professor snuck up behind Rip with the sedative. “It’s going to be all right, Rip. We just need Gideon to take a look at you…”

Rip yelped and snapped as Stein jammed the needle into his arm. Carter fell back, and Stein did as well. Rip pulled the needle out, roared at the two men and ran away down the stairs.

Right toward the open hatch. 

“Dammit!” Carter swore, getting to his feet and running after Rip. As he reached the open hatch he extended his wings and took off.

* * *

 

Holland huffed as he pulled himself up onto the roof of the aquarium, pausing to bend over with his hands on his thighs for a moment. He wasn’t used to this kind of exercise. He’d barely caught his breath when a roar startled it out of him again. He looked up to see a bayou legend come to terrifying life before him. 

_ “Rougarou?”  _ he gasped.

The rooftop security lights were dim, but he could see the gleam of the werewolf’s eyes… and teeth. The creature took a step toward him…

Then swayed and fell, sprawling where it landed.

“Took long enough for that sedative to work.”

Holland looked up from the creature to get his second shock of the night as Carter Hall landed on the other side of it. “Dr. Hall?  _ You’re  _ Hawkman?”

“Long story,” Hall said. “ _ Very _ long. For now, just help me get him aboard the Waverider.”

* * *

 

Ray had vanished into the crowd of milling plant-people, which seemed to be getting larger. And those who hadn’t been turned into plants were pushing toward the exits in a panic. They’d have to get that under control. 

“Try to find Ray!” Kendra told Mick before flying to the dais, where the others had gathered, their masks now removed.

“Are you all right?” Len asked as she landed. “It looked like you were about to get grafted.”

“I’m fine,” she answered. “Where did Carter go?” 

“He went to the Waverider to check on Gray,” Jax told her. “Something was wrong, but I think they fixed it. I’m only getting worry from him now. He’s not scared any more.”

“They can handle themselves,” Sara said. “We should worry about what’s in front of us. I see Mick--” it was hard not to; the big man had plucked one of the torches from the stage and was moving through the crowd with it, “but where’s Ray?”

“He’s one of  _ them _ ,” Kendra said, pointing at a cluster of shambling plant people. “But I don’t know which one now.”

“They don’t seem to be hurting anyone,” Jax said.

“No, but somebody will get hurt if we don’t get this panic under control,” Sara said. “Look!”

She pointed to where a woman had fallen, pushed over in the crush. Luckily for her, Mick was near enough to clear some space and help her to her feet, still brandishing his torch.

“We can work with Mick and security to corral these plant things in one place,” Len said, motioning to himself, Sara and Jax. Then he pointed to Kendra. “But I think these people need Hawkgirl to calm them down.”

“Len’s right,” Sara said. “They know you. You’re the hero in this town, and they need you now.”

Kendra nodded. “All right, I’m on it.” She flew over to the main stage and grabbed one of the microphones abandoned by the musicians when the trouble started. “Everyone, listen to me! Listen!”

The din lessened just a little, and some hopeful faces turned her way. “I know you’re frightened. But under all the vines and leaves, those--” she motioned to the knot of plant-things--  _ people,  _ she corrected herself-- now being rounded up by her friends, “are still your friends and family. Something has happened to them, and they are probably just as scared as you are. We are going to do everything we can to help them. For now, please just do what the security guards tell you.”

The panic seemed to be subsiding, and the pushing seemed to stop. Kendra put the microphone down and flew to join the others.

“Nicely done,” Len complimented her. “You sure you used to be a barista?”

Kendra snorted at him. “Shut up.”

Together, they steered the plant people toward a single gathering place.

* * *

 

Holland helped Carter lift Rip into the Medbay bed. Stein clipped the IV bracelet to the captain’s arm, and a blue light played over his still form.

“Well, Gideon?” Stein asked.

Holland started as Gideon responded. “As I thought, there is a mutagenic substance in Captain Hunter’s bloodstream.”

“Hunter? You mean… this is the movie guy?” Holland asked. “What… how…”

“I’ll buy you a beer and explain later,” Carter answered, putting up a hand to forestall any further questions, while Stein asked, “Do you recognize it?” 

“It appears to be some form of bacteria, and it is not of this Earth,” Gideon said. An image appeared on the screen next to the bed: a round, shimmering blue-green organism with spikes like dandelion spores.

“That was in the tarp you brought me!” Holland exclaimed. “I came here to look at it with the aquarium’s electron microscope.”

“We found the sceptre in that tarp,” Carter said. “Gideon, is it still in Rip’s study?”

“Yes, on the table.”

“I’ll be right back.” Carter half-ran, half-flew through the corridors to the study, where the box with the artifacts still sat on the table where Rip had left it. Quickly, he brought the box back to the Medbay and set it on the empty bed. “Gideon, take a look,” he said, opening the box and stepping back.

The blue light played over the ancient objects, and a second image of the bacteria appeared on the screen. “As you would say, ‘bingo,’” Gideon told them. Carter slammed the box shut, and Gideon went on, “There is no need for alarm. The bacteria is dormant without moisture, and in any event it would have to be absorbed intravenously or ingested.”

“Intravenously?” Stein asked. “Didn’t Captain Hunter say he’d been bitten by a wolf cub?”

Carter nodded. “Wolf DNA plus alien bacteria--”

“Equals werewolf,” Stein finished. “So how do we cure him?”

Slowly, as if putting together a hypothesis, Holland said, “Well, in the movies you’d need a silver bullet.”

“We are  _ not _ going to  _ shoot _ our Captain!” Stein answered sharply.

“Of course not!” Holland said, just as sharply. “But I think…”

Gideon interrupted him. “Excuse me, but I have a call coming in from Miss Saunders.”

“Miss Saunders?” Holland asked, his eyebrows going up. “Of course. Hawkgirl is your girlfriend.”   
  
“Later!” Carter growled. “Kendra, we’ve got things under control here. Stein is fine, and Rip… will be.”   
  
_ “Then you might be doing better than us,”  _ Kendra answered.  _ “We’ve got a convention center full of plant people here, and we don’t know what to do. We’re not scientists!” _

“Plant people?” Carter shook his head. First Rougarou, now  _ Père Malfait  _ en masse _. _ “I thought Ray was a scientist.”

_ “Well, yes, but… He’s one of the plant people.” _

* * *

 

There was silence on the other end of the line. “Carter?” Kendra asked, looking at the smartphone display to see if they were still connected.

_ “I’m still here, Kendra,” _ Carter answered over the speaker.  _ “Listen, those artifacts we picked up today were contaminated with some kind of mutagen…” _

_ “It’s a mutagenic bacteria,”  _ Stein added.  _ “And it’s turned Captain Hunter into a… I don’t believe I’m saying this… into a werewolf.” _

Kendra exchanged a wide-eyed look with the others, who’d moved closer to hear the conversation. Sara said, “Carter, you handled the sceptre too. Are you feeling all right?”   
  
_ “Gideon thinks the bacteria has to be ingested or get into your bloodstream, so I’m pretty sure I’m safe,”  _ Carter answered.

“Ingested?” Jax asked. “We found the medallion in that spinach! It must’ve been contaminated and then cooked into...”

“The oysters!” Kendra exclaimed. “Ray had a few of those.”

“Plenty of people probably had a few of those,” Jax agreed.

“So all our leafy friends here just have an exotic variety of food poisoning,” Len drawled, waving a hand at the crowd.

Mick grunted. “Like I said, bad things happen when you eat green stuff.”

Kendra huffed at him. “The question is, how do we cure it?”

A new voice answered.  _ “I think I have an idea.” _

* * *

_ “Is that Dr. Holland?” _ Sara asked in surprise.

Carter shrugged even though he knew she couldn’t see it. “Don’t ask. Let us work on this, and we’ll call you back in a few.” He turned to his colleague. “What’s your idea?”

“Your friend here gave it to me,” Holland said, jerking a thumb at the professor. “Silver bullets.”

“We’re not  _ shooting _ -”

Holland cut the older man off in irritation. “Legend tells us silver kills supernatural creatures like werewolves. But legends have basis in fact--” Carter snorted, thinking Holland didn’t know just how true that was, “and history tells us silver was often used by the ancients in medicine, for keeping things purified--”

“We stored water in silver urns in the Middle Kingdom,” Carter remembered. When Holland just stared at him, he said, “Part of the very long story. Go on.”

“Yes,” Stein said, “and get to the part where this will help the Captain and all those people!”

“Silver is an antibacterial,” Holland concluded.

“Dr. Holland is correct,” Gideon announced. “I have already run a simulation of the effect of colloidal silver on the bacteria. You can see the results on the screen.”

They turned to the screen to see an image of tiny, dark particles surrounding the blue-green fuzzballs of bacteria. The fuzzballs were engulfed and disappeared.

“So you think this will work, Gideon?” Stein asked.

“I do. There is a hypodermic with what I have determined to be the correct dosage of colloidal silver for Captain Hunter waiting in the medical fabricator.”

Stein opened the case and withdrew the needle. Returning to Rip’s side, he let out a sigh and said, “Well, may fortune favor the foolish.”

He inserted the needle with considerably more care than when he’d sedated Rip earlier. After administering the dose, he asked, “How quickly--”

He’d barely gotten the words out when Rip began to shake in the bed.

“Hold him!” Carter said, grabbing Rip’s arm and shoulder on one side. Holland followed suit on the other, and they all stared as Rip howled through his transformation. The tufted ears shrank and disappeared, the elongated snout shortened back into Rip’s own face, the clawed paws became human hands again, and masses of red fur began sliding off the captain’s body, falling to the deck.

Rip finally stopped shaking. Carter and Holland released him and stepped back. “Well, Gideon?” Stein asked in a low tone.

“The bacteria have been eradicated. I am discontinuing the sedative,” the AI answered.

Rip moaned, then put a hand to his forehead. “What the bloody hell?” He opened his eyes. “Why am I in Medbay?” His gaze fixed on Holland. “What are you doing here?”

Then he looked down at himself. “And why am I  _ naked _ ?”

Carter’s lips twitched with the effort not to burst out laughing. Stein pulled a silvery blanket out of a drawer and draped it over Rip. “Sorry, Captain, but we were a little more concerned with your health than your dignity. You, sir, have had one hell of a night.”

“Might have been better off going to the party,” Carter told him. “Speaking of which… Gideon, can you please call Kendra back?”

_ “Carter! Did you figure something out?” _

“We did, and Rip’s back to normal now.”

_ “Was that the best you could do--ow! Sara!” _

Carter did laugh at Len’s suddenly cut-off joke. “Listen, I need to know how many… plant people we need to treat.”

Rip frowned. “Plant people… what?”

“Later, Captain,” Stein soothed.

_ “Security thinks it’s about two thousand,”  _ Kendra reported.

Carter and Stein exchanged a stunned look. “That’s a lot of hypodermics,” Carter said.

Holland held up a finger. “I have a better idea,” he said, and grinned. “You familiar with crop dusting?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who you gonna call?

Working with the security guards, they’d managed to corral all of the transformed partygoers into one section of the hall when Carter flew back in, carrying a silver canister by a pair of straps. Kendra met him on the dais. 

“Put this on,” he said, holding the canister out.

She laughed a little as she took it. “What are we, the Ghostbusters?” The straps were for her shoulders. The canister also had a hose connection, ending in a spray nozzle. 

Carter was wearing a similar contraption. “Plantbusters,” he told her with a smirk. “Gideon made these and filled them with the cure. We’ll fly over the crowd and spray them. You start on the left, I’ll start on the right. We’ll cross over and then go back to make sure we hit everybody.”

“All right,” Kendra said, slipping the canister on. “After all, who you gonna call?”

Carter chuckled and lifted off, heading to his side of the herd of plant people. Kendra winged to her side, and the two began spraying down the crowd with a fine, silvery mist.

* * *

 

Sara leaned against Len, both of them watching Hawkman and Hawkgirl flying over the plant people. “Do you think it will work?” she murmured to him.

“Hope so,” he said, putting an arm around her. “Wouldn’t want to see any of these nice people wind up in a Green Goddess salad.”

Jax pointed into the crowd. “Hey, look!”

Leaves and vines were starting to brown and wither, falling off the afflicted and sliding to the floor in piles, revealing dazed-looking partygoers. Many of them started staggering toward the exits.

“I’d say it’s working!” Len said. Kendra buzzed them as she turned to make another pass over the crowd, and they gave her a thumbs-up.

* * *

 

Mick looked at the pile of oysters and soiled linens he’d gotten the kitchen staff to dump on the concrete in front of the convention center entrance. Boss had said to get rid of the contaminated food, and Mick was going to do it in the best way he knew how. He looked at his torch, smiling in anticipation, and started to lower it to the pile.

“I don’t think I can ever eat a salad again.”

Mick whirled at the tired, familiar voice. “Haircut! You’re all right!”

The Boy Scout was swaying a bit, but he was no longer covered in leaves and vines. Mick got him to sit down on the stairs, next to the six-pack of beer he’d filched from one of the bars. “Hey, listen, sorry about hitting you back there. Have a beer on me.”

“Okay, sure.” Haircut said tiredly, picking up one of the bottles and starting to twist the cap off. Then he paused with a puzzled expression. “Wait… you  _ hit  _ me?”

“Ahh, forget it. Watch this instead.” Mick turned back to his pile of oysters and dropped the torch into it. Then he sat next to Haircut and opened a bottle of his own while the fire spread over the pile.

“Lay-zeh leh bon taw roo-lay!” he said, repeating a phrase he’d heard from the bartender as he held the bottle up in a salute.

Haircut nodded weakly as he clinked his bottle against Mick’s. “Let the good times roll.”

“Yeah, that too.”

They sat drinking their beers and watching the flames.

* * *

 

“I mean it. I can’t look another lettuce leaf in the face,” Ray said adamantly, crossing his arms and leaning back in his jump seat. Kendra patted his shoulder comfortingly.

“Lettuce leaves don’t have faces,” Sara pointed out. She was sitting on one side of the window seat. Len was lounging across the rest of it, his head on her lap. Outside, the sky was beginning to lighten.

From the study entry, Jax added, “Besides, it was spinach, dude. And I thought you were the one who insisted on all of us eating healthy.”

Ray shook his head. “Nope. Gideon, you can make me supplements instead, right?”   
  
“I can, Dr. Palmer,” Gideon replied primly. “The question you should be asking is whether I will.”   
  
“Don’t worry, Gideon, we’ll sneak his veggies in,” Len said. “Just like I used to do to Lisa and Mick.”

Mick started in surprise. “You did  _ what _ ?”

Laughter swept the bridge. Once everyone had settled again, Carter said, “Well, everyone who got turned into plant people checked out all right, so… disaster averted.”

“But so much for being unobtrusive,” Sara said. “Gideon, any damage to the timeline?”

“There is a story in the  _ Times-Picayune  _ blaming a metahuman for the transformations. It says the metahuman has been captured and turned over to government authorities,” Gideon reported. “It quotes Hawkman as the source of this information.”

“Fake news?” Len asked with a slight smile.

Carter shrugged. “Let’s say Kendra and I know how to get a legend started. And Lyla Diggle at ARGUS will corroborate the story if anyone tries to chase it down.”   


“People already know about metahumans,” Kendra added. “That’s an easier explanation than contaminated time-displaced artifacts.”

“Which are no longer contaminated, thanks to Dr. Holland,” Rip announced, coming onto the bridge from the other passageway, followed by Stein and Holland. “And which will no longer be time displaced, as soon as we determine the best time to return them to the temple of Heryshef.”   


“I have already calculated that destination, Captain,” Gideon said. “The course is laid in, whenever you all are ready.”

Silence fell on the bridge for a moment. “Well, I suppose duty calls,” Stein said at last.

Carter nodded. “For us, too,” he said. “I have a class to teach in a few hours.”

“So do I,” Holland said.

“And I have a class to take,” Kendra added. She looked around at her friends. “I know this wasn’t quite the Mardi Gras you all expected...”

“Kendra, it’s  _ us _ ,” Jax laughed. “This is  _ exactly _ the kind of thing we should’ve expected!”

“Unfortunately, all too true, Jax,” Rip said. “Now, I know it’s very late… or very early, depending on how you look at it… but what do you all say to a drink before we have to go our separate ways?”

“You have to ask?” Mick said.

“With this lot? Probably not,” Rip admitted with a smile, stepping up into his study. The others followed, and after a moment all had glasses of bourbon.

“Here’s to old friends and new,” Rip said, holding up his glass and nodding to Holland.

“If not for you we’d have to turn Ray’s bedroom into a terrarium,” Len said, clinking his glass against the scientist’s.

“And we’d need to find a flea collar for Rip,” Mick added, smirking at Rip’s withering look.

Holland hummed as his whiskey went down. “I’m glad I was able to help. And this is all going to help advance my research. That bacteria did amazing things.”   
  
Ray choked a little on his drink. “Amazing?”

“This is where the ‘bit of an ass’ part comes in,” Carter murmured to Len, who snorted.

Oblivious to that interchange, Holland went on, “Yes! It made plants grow where they shouldn’t.”

Hotly, Ray replied, “Yeah, all over my--”

“Ray!” Kendra interrupted with a laugh.

Finally realizing he’d put his foot in his mouth all the way to the kneecap, Holland held his hands up apologetically. “I’m sorry. I realize that must have been traumatic. But just imagine what might be achieved in environments hostile to plant life!”

“Turning deserts into gardens,” Rip mused.

“Exactly,” Holland said. “If I can get the funding to follow up.”   
  
“I have some good news for you on that,” Kendra said. “I… or rather, Hawkgirl, mentioned something about your work to an angel investor at the Bacchus party. Remember Mr. Two Left Feet, Ray? He was very interested in your work, Alec, and said he’d be calling you.”

Holland’s eyes bugged. “Really?” He started patting his pockets. “Damn, I left my phone in my truck. I’ve got to get it before I miss that call!”

He stepped out of the study and turned toward one passageway, then the other, before turning back to the others. “Uh, which way out?”

Jax chuckled, putting his glass down. “I’ll show you,” he said.

“Thanks,” Holland said gratefully. He nodded to the rest of the team. “It’s been… interesting.”

He got a variety of nods, waves and salutes from the others, then followed Jax off the bridge. Once they were out of sight, Ray said, “He didn’t thank you, Kendra.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, as long as he can keep our secret.”

“About that,” Rip said. “He won’t have to. In a little while he won’t remember anything from the past 24 hours.”

“You slipped him an amnesia pill!” Sara said with a grin.

“Sneaky, Rip. I like it,” Len said admiringly.

“I think you’ve been hanging around these two too long, Captain,” Carter said, pointing to Len and Mick.

“You’re not the only one around here who can teach,” Len chuckled.

“The Snart and Rory School Of Petty Larceny,” Stein gibed.

That got a mock glare from Len, who said, “ _ Grand _ Larceny, if you please!”

“The only thing I want to learn from Mick,” Kendra said, “is how to make those crème brûlées.”

“Next time, Birdgirl,” Mick promised.

“Mick Rory and open flames on board my ship,” Rip groaned. “I don’t think my heart can stand the strain!” Then he chuckled and put his glass down, extending a hand to Carter. “It was good working with both of you again.”

“Same here, Rip,” Carter answered, shaking Rip’s hand while Kendra approached Len and Sara. She stretched her arms out to hug them both. 

“Take care of each other,” she told them.

“You two do the same,” Sara replied, motioning between Kendra and Carter. He nodded as Kendra drew back. Then, with a challenging glance at Len, Carter pulled Sara into his arms and dipped her for a quick kiss. As he swung her back up, she laughed and told Kendra, “Not bad!”

Len mock-scowled at her. Sara smiled and wound an arm around his waist. “You’re better,” she reassured him, stretching up to kiss him soundly.

“Here we go with the mush again!” Mick complained good-naturedly as the kiss lingered.

“Oh, don’t try to fool us, Mick. We all know you’re a big marshmallow inside,” Kendra said, giving him a brief hug before turning to Ray.

“I hear you were quite the hero last night,” Ray told her. “Sorry I missed it.”

“Thanks for being my hero on the dance floor,” she said, hugging him as Jax jogged back onto the bridge.

“Dr. Holland is on his way,” he reported.

“We should be too,” Carter said. “It’ll be daylight soon.”

They finished their farewells and headed out of the ship. “Do you miss it?” Carter asked quietly as they walked down the ramp.

“I miss  _ them _ ,” Kendra said, waving one last time to Len and Sara before the ramp closed.

Carter hummed thoughtfully. “Listen, Kendra, I know you came here because you didn’t want me to try to figure this life out on my own.”

She turned to him and slid her arms up around his neck. “Carter, that’s why I came here. But it’s not why I stayed.”

He smiled and pulled her close for a kiss as the Waverider lifted off and soared into the predawn sky. As it disappeared back into the time stream, Kendra suddenly started smiling and then giggling against his lips.

He pulled back with a raised eyebrow. “I kiss you and you  _ laugh _ ?”

“I just remembered what Mick was talking about before,” she said. “Steve Martin and King Tut?”

Carter blinked, then started laughing himself. “Well, I guess that proves they got the artifacts back!”

Still chuckling, they unfurled their wings and flew home.

* * *

 

“I never did get my selfie at Louis Armstrong Park,” Raymond said as the ship entered the Temporal Zone.

“Maybe you can get Rip to bring you back after we drop the artifacts off,” Len told him.

“Actually, I think I can do better than that,” Rip said, pressing some buttons on his console. “Gideon, you have the coordinates I want.”

“Yes, Captain. We’re on our way.”

The Waverider flew out of the time stream into a nighttime sky, with many electric lights twinkling below. “That doesn’t look like ancient Egypt to me,” Jax observed.

“No, it isn’t,” Rip confirmed. “Gideon, we’ll need period-appropriate evening wear, please.”

* * *

“Another monkey suit?” Mick complained as they walked off the ship, pulling at his collar. Gideon had once again produced tuxedos for the men, and a fringed blue flapper dress for Sara.

“Still won’t kill you, Mick,” Len told him.

“Where are we, anyway?” Sara asked, adjusting her feathered headband. “I’m guessing the ‘when’ is the 20s.”

“Correct, Sara. May 8, 1927, to be more precise,” Rip replied, adjusting his bow tie. “As to where... this is the Bronzeville neighborhood of Chicago. Let’s just head around this corner and… ah! Here we are!”

Ray’s mouth dropped open as he stared at the marquee before them. Stein read aloud, “The Sunset Cafe presents…”

“Louis Armstrong and His Stompers,” Jax finished.

“I don’t believe it,” Ray finally squeaked.

“I thought you might like hearing Satchmo in person,” Rip said smugly. “Unless you’d rather I take you back to the park for that selfie?”

Ray’s head whipped to the side and he stared at Rip, mouth open. Finally he managed to say, “ _ Hell _ , no!” 

He hugged the captain enthusiastically, then motioned for the others to follow him into the club. Sara looked at Len and winked. “Wanna dance, Leonard?”

“With you, pretty bird? Always.” He offered his arm to her, and they followed the others, smirking at each other when they heard Ray say, “ _ Totally _ worth getting turned into spinach for a night!”

* * *

 

Alec Holland blew out a sigh as he parked in his space at St. Roch University. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember why he’d wanted to get such an early start today.

In fact, he couldn’t remember much about the last day. When he’d looked at his phone, he’d been startled to see it was Monday morning already.

And it was drizzling.

Typical Monday.

With another sigh, he slid out of the truck and grabbed the torn tarp sitting on the passenger seat. He also didn’t remember bringing it in from the lagoon, but at least he’d remembered to bring it with him to school. He might have lost some rainwater samples, but even the dried algae on the tarp might be useful. He needed  _ something,  _ anything, to get more funding for his research. Things were getting perilous indeed when even red beans and rice were getting too expensive.

He was so lost in thought and worry that he didn’t pay attention to where he was walking, and caught his foot on a curb. He fell, dropping the tarp as he put his hands out to catch himself. He hissed as the wet asphalt tore into his palms.

Gingerly, he pushed himself up to his knees, then back to his feet, looking at his hands. The heels of them were bleeding slightly. “Typical Monday,” he sighed, using his fingertips to pick the tarp up again before heading into his teaching lab.

Not noticing the shimmer of moisture-activated bacteria sliding over the cloth to his fingers, then zeroing in on his wounded palms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, at the end of this particular adventure. I was going for an episodic feel, and I hope it worked.
> 
> Comments are, as always, greatly appreciated!


End file.
